it is a new year.

and with this new year, comes all the things that come with every year; renewed hope for the dreams not yet fulfilled, the realization that while i am where i want to be in some areas, there are still those elusive battles that i cannot yet seem to win.

one such battle, again, is the one i fight with loneliness every time i come back from visiting the family. it's a strange dichotomy that while surrounded by my favorite people, i crave the silence and stillness of my home, yet, now as i sit here in my solitary abode, my heart desires those same noisy, nosey, laughing people.

it seems that for the most part, i do not really know what i want. so, in light of that, i have found a Rilke poem that suits this melancholy mood. it echoes in my heart, and i have nothing else to say.

I Am Too Much Alone In This World, And Yet Not Alone

I am much too alone in this world, yet not alone enough
to truly consecrate the hour.
I am much too small in this world, yet not small enough
to be to you just object and thing,
dark and smart.
I want my free will and want it accompanying
the path which leads to action;
and want during times that beg questions,
where something is up,
to be among those in the know,
or else be alone.

I want to mirror your image to its fullest perfection,
never be blind or too old
to uphold your weighty wavering reflection.
I want to unfold.
Nowhere I wish to stay crooked, bent;
for there I would be dishonest, untrue.
I want my conscience to be
true before you;
want to describe myself like a picture I observed
for a long time, one close up,
like a new word I learned and embraced,
like the everday jug,
like my mother's face,
like a ship that carried me along
through the deadliest storm.


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